


Through Thick and Thin

by looseleafpage



Category: Talespin (Cartoon)
Genre: Adventure, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst and Feels, Anthropomorphic, Childhood Friends, Confusion, Developing Relationship, Disney, Disney Afternoon, Epic Friendship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friendship, Furry, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Other, Sexual Confusion, Strangers to Lovers, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/looseleafpage/pseuds/looseleafpage
Summary: Post-series, Kit struggles with the mundanity of adulthood while longing for the adventures of his youth.  But be careful what you wish for...
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	1. Let's Begin It

Kit flexed in his drafting chair, stretching from the claws of his fingers to the tips of his toes. He yawned broadly, pushing aside papers on his light table and turning to look out the floor to ceiling window that dominated the office Khan had provided him. Below, the citizens of Cape Suzette went about their lives as they always had, protected by the cliffs that surrounded their city. And above…

Above, the aviation industry for which they were known was well in evidence. Planes criss-crossed the blue yonder, carrying passengers, cargo, mail, and goods, their own boundless highway mocking the streets below in three dimensions. Kit stood and craned his neck, arching his back until his muscles ached and his spine cracked. What was he doing here on the ground when there was a whole sky to explore?

His gaze turned to his old airfoil, hung in prominence over his desk, then back out the window with a sigh. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass. Kit knew he should be grateful. Designing planes for Shere Kahn was beyond his wildest dreams, and to say the elite businessman was hesitant to hire him would be an understatement. Ms Cunningham had risked her own reputation by recommending someone fresh out of school for the job, and he couldn’t let her down. She had more at stake in this than he did - having sold Higher for Hire to Baloo to take on a management position at Khan industries, her whole life was now tied up in the company she had so often fought against. He _wouldn’t_ let her down.

The reflection of his blinking watch against the window caught his attention and derailed this ever present train of thought. Lunchtime.

“Thank goodness,” he muttered, grabbing his cap. “I could use a break.”

The cafe Molly worked at part time wasn’t far from Kit’s building, and the food wasn’t half bad, so he made a habit of stopping by when he knew she had a shift. This, of course, spawned rumors among Molly’s coworkers of the two dating - but alas, that crush had been short lived and unrequited. Sure, they’d been through a lot together as kids, but the constant “will they, won’t they” tension between their respective parental figures had rendered any attraction they may have towards each other null and void. They were best friends, basically siblings, and that was that. Not to mention Molly only liked girls, so, there had also been that to contend with.

Weaving through pedestrians on his skateboard, Kit snorted at the memory of Baloo finding out. Ms Cunningham had long suspected, of course, but good ol’ Papa Bear had fully believed the two of them would live happily ever after, running Higher for Hire with their eighteen children while he retired to the apartment above Louie’s Place. It broke his heart to discover this next generation was not to be, but he was supportive nonetheless.

Kit knew he still wanted that apartment, though.

VaVroom Brew was a comfortable spot, frequented by gearheads for its historical decor and attention to anything with an engine. You could always find someone there willing to debate the merits of the Spruce Moose vs the Titanium Turkey. Photos of Whistlestop Jackson, Joe McGee, Amelia Airhead, Charles Limburger, the Kitty Hawk Kids, all heroes of aviation, covered the walls. Baloo was a recent addition.

Molly looked up as the bell over the door chimed. She was leaning on the counter, chatting up a pretty black and white bear who was all curves and spots. Her face broke into a huge grin upon seeing her friend. She whispered something to the girl with a nod, who smiled and eyed the newcomer as Molly excused herself under the pretense of bringing him a menu.

Kit leaned his board against the umbrella stand and flopped down into a booth as Molly came over.

“What’s up, Danger Woman?”

“Good to see you, Ace. How’s working for the man?”

Kit groaned and dragged his hands over his face.

“Oh come on,” Molly urged, “it can’t be that bad. Huge office, huge potential, huge paycheck…”

“Huge migraine,” Kit said. “How can something be mind-numbingly boring and beyond, beyond stressful at the same time? The facility’s all there, the resources, the expertise, the technology, but it’s lacking in…” he trailed off, looking back at the counter where the girl was plucking the cherry off her milkshake.

“Inspiration.”

Molly snorted. Kit looked back at her.

“How about you, Mol? How are things here at the Brew?”

"I’d rather still be working on campus, I need to get out of here," Molly said, cringing. "At least there I didn’t have to commute to get my soul crushed. Too much drama here, too much favoritism, and the owner's such an-"

"I think your friend misses you," Kit interrupted, nodding towards the girl at the counter. "She hasn't looked away since you came over."

Molly grinned and looked back at the girl, who gave a little wave with her fingers and giggled.

"This one's not for me," Molly laughed, turning her attention back to Kit, "she's for you!"

Kit raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the booth, not sure how to react to this bit of news.

"You're incredibly easy to talk up, you know." Molly's face took on that clever, flirtatious look that Kit once wished would always be for him. "Khan's youngest aviation engineer, heir to the Higher for Hire legacy, former ace of the skies…"

Kit grimaced at the word "former" and dramatically fell forward, resting his head on the formica table, looking up at his friend in abject distress. A silent moment of understanding passed between them. Kit was too young to be a “former” anything.

"Come on,” Molly said, smacking him with the menu. “You need some fun. You've been working too hard." Her eyes softened, her voice became sincere. "I miss you."

Kit knew what she meant.

"I miss me, too." He sighed and sat back up. "Okay. So, what's her name?"


	2. Bear and Grin It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kit meets Molly’s friend, and we meet Rebecca Cunningham.

Her name, as it turned out, was Cara. When she spoke her voice was low and musical, and seemed to originate somewhere deep in her chest. It contrasted (somewhat embarrassingly, he thought) with Kit's own raspy timbre that had never left him, even as his own voice had lowered. When she laughed though it was a light and airy thing, and Kit knew that, despite how awkward he felt, he wouldn't soon tire of hearing it. Molly waved her over, made some quick introductions, and ran.

“She didn’t even take my order!” Kit laughed to Cara. “The nerve,”

“You always get the same thing!” Molly’s voice called back from behind the counter, not trying to hide the fact she was listening in. “Burger and fries, it’ll be out in a minute.”

Kit laughed and turned his attention back to his new boothmate.

“Molly seems eager to leave us alone,” Cara said, raising an eyebrow. “Which one of us is she trying to get rid of?”

“Good question. How do you know her?”

“From school.” Cara waved off the details, as though she didn’t like talking about it too much. “My parents thought being a mechanic was no goal for a lady, so we ended up in some of the same business management classes.”

“Wait,” Kit said, “a mechanic? You?”

“Everyone always has such a tone of surprise.” Cara fluttered her eyelashes and raised her voice an octave. “Little ol’ me comes by the Brew every so often to check their job board.” She let her voice drop again. “Never have much luck, though. Molly tells me _you’ve_ got some interesting connections...”

“Oh, is that what this is about?”

"Well," Cara eyed Kit up and down, making no attempt to be subtle about it, "not entirely." She took a sip of her milkshake, which she’d brought over with her. It was bubblegum pink and covered in sprinkles, and Kit smiled at the simple joyfulness of it.

“Well I can’t recommend anyone whose skills I haven’t seen,” Kit said, sitting up a little straighter and adopting the most professional voice he could muster. “Feel like helping me out on a project?”

“Wouldn’t that break some NDA?” Cara asked, eyebrow up again.

“No no, nothing like that,” Kit said, “it’s just, Baloo and Wildcat have been working on the Sea Duck, and she needs some serious love. She’s practically an antique, you know, and they need all the help they can get.”

It was at this point that Molly came by with Kit’s food. As she placed the plate down on the table she scolded, “Really, Ace? Kind of a questionable first date if you ask me, you couldn’t offer up dinner and a movie? And shouldn’t you get to know eachother a bit more before introducing her to the folks?” She was joking, of course.

But Cara’s eyes were shining, and Kit saw it. He checked his watch.

“We’ve got forty more minutes,” he said with a grin. “Plenty of time to learn.”

Kit and Cara barely needed the forty minutes, falling immediately into an easy back and forth patter. They idly switched topics from engines to pizza toppings to embarassing third grade memories, in a way that was somehow both comfortable and strange. Kit felt uneasy with the immediacy of it, but thought that perhaps this compatibility was thanks to Molly’s vetting of the candidate. He’d have to thank her later.

“Alright,” Cara was saying, “let’s raise the stakes. What was the last thing you were dumped for?”

Kit winced. “Yikes, you don’t play around do you.”

“Straight to the jugular.”

“I…” Kit hesitated. “I talk in my sleep.”

“Ooh! That’s a good one! What did you say?”

“Nuh uh,” Kit said, “you’ve gotta earn that detail.”

Cara’s brows shot up.

“That’s not - oh god,” Kit sputtered, “that’s not what I meant!”

“Oh okay,” Cara said, rolling her eyes.

“Cara -”

“I’ve gotta hear it for myself, huh?”

Kit was blushing so furiously his ears were turning red, but Cara was laughing, teasing him.

“I see how it is,” she said with a wink.

Kit struggled to regain what was left of his dignity and said, “Okay, your turn then, what was the last thing YOU got dumped for?”

“Stealing fries.” Cara deftly grabbed a couple off Kit’s plate before he could react.

“Get your own!” Kit laughed. He knew it wasn’t a real answer, but he was happy to have a reason to change the subject.

“You know what, just for that…” Kit took one of his remaining french fries, dunked it into Cara’s milkshake, and scarfed it down.

“HEY!” she gasped, “gross!”

“What? It's good.”

“It's disgusting!”

“You ever try it?”

Cara's face screwed up into an expression that clearly said no, and how dare you suggest such a thing.

“Hey,” Kit said, “don't knock it 'til you try it.”

They agreed to meet up later in the week again for lunch, with the promise of a walk back to see Kit’s office. Kit also assured Cara that he would talk to Wildcat and see what the veteran technician might have in store, to best determine what day they should come by. After a somewhat awkward goodbye (during which Kit nearly smacked his face into Cara’s as she’d unexpectedly leant in to kiss his cheek), Molly rushed out to grab Kit and give him a hug.

“Isn’t she the best?” she said breathlessly. “I knew you’d just love her.”

“It’s a bit early to say that,” Kit said.

But the whole way back to Khan’s he couldn’t stop smiling, surprised at the new lightness he felt.

Across Cape Suzette, in the glamorous penthouse apartment of the tallest residency in the city, Rebecca Cunningham was also enjoying a new happiness. She’d taken the day off to supervise the delivery and installation of a new clawfoot tub, wanting to position it just so, in order to have a proper view of the waterfall that flowed down the side of the building outside her window. She had a fraught relationship with that waterfall, even considered moving a decade ago after a sea monster climbed it and made its escape with Molly, but this penthouse was her pride and joy - her first real investment - and through all her successes and failures she had kept it. The furnishings had changed over the years, though. Rebecca enjoyed the finer things in life, and had no shame over indulging when the opportunity arose.

“Perfect,” she said, finally. “This is the spot.”

The plumbers heaved a deep sigh of relief, having been summoned an hour ago but stuck in stasis as the delivery men inched and rotated the heavy thing this way and that - with Rebecca lounging inside. The movers, for their part, took off lightning quick before she could change her mind, only realizing later that they’d forgotten to get a signature. Neither wanted to return to get it.

If the plumbers thought they’d get off easy they were sorely mistaken. Having pulled a reference book from a massive shelf that took up a whole wall of the living room, Rebecca stood overseeing the procedure, questioning every connector and valve. No one would ever say Rebecca Cunningham was uninformed or unprepared.

Two hours later found the very satisfied businesswoman soaking up to her chin in piping hot, sweetly scented bubbles. She’d known the installation wouldn’t take all day but couldn’t resist the opportunity for the break in her schedule. Shere Khan hadn’t been pleased, but she convinced him, in her sharp, unobjectionable way, that a full day would be beneficial to her productivity. After all, hadn’t she been working nonstop since he’d hired her a year ago? Hadn’t she increased his profit margins by finding efficiencies in overtaxed departments? Hadn’t she sent him the latest study tying overall mental health with happiness in the workplace?

“I do not aim to keep my employees happy, Ms Cunningham,” Khan had told her flatly, “I aim to keep them _busy_.”

Even so, he had given her the day, and she was going to embrace every moment of it. She’d barely had time to reflect over the recent changes to her life - leaving Higher for Hire, Molly moving away to school - it was a lot to think about. Truth be told, the lack of reflection may have been somewhat intentional on her part. It was all so bittersweet. She still kept in touch with Baloo, of course. The laid-back pilot constantly asked her to buy back the business, which he was horrified to discover he hated running. Baloo had grown used to having a boss with an actual inclination to oversee things, and quickly found that he was not up to the task. And tough Rebecca would never admit it, she loved that he still needed her.

And Molly… though she was still in Cape Suzette, not having her daughter with her was devastating. All they’d had was each other for so long, and in the years before school Rebecca had fought to take Molly with her to every job, only finding a comfortable fit for both of them with Baloo and Kit at Higher for Hire. They were all a family, but things were so different now.

Rebecca submerged in the tub, observing how the light reflected off the surface until her eyes stung from the sudsy water.

A _good_ different, she decided.


	3. When You’re In It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kit visits Baloo while trouble looms overhead.

Worn from sea spray, scrubbed from bird droppings, and repaired from the occasional bad landing, the heralding sign on Higher for Hire’s dock had been repainted so many times that Baloo, for whom spelling had always been a weak point, was certain he could write out the tricky phrase forwards, backwards, and possibly in his sleep. And so Kit found him today, taking advantage of the good weather, up on a ladder with a can of red paint.

“Hey, Kit!” Baloo called, sending drops of paint splashing as he waved. “Good to see ya, kid.”

“Hey Baloo,” Kit smiled. “Need a hand there?”

“Nah, just taking a break.” Baloo slammed the paint’s lid in place with the butt of his brush and hung the can from the ladder. As he climbed down he asked,

“What brings you out this way? Sick of ol’ Khannie?”

There was a laugh in his voice, but Baloo couldn’t completely hide that he clearly missed Kit. His young navigator had stuck around for a while, and came by for holidays while in school, but when the opportunity to work at Khan Industries was presented they both knew there was no way it could be passed up.

“He’s definitely a different sort of boss than you,” Kit said, “and you know, he’s _almost_ as scary as Ms Cunningham.”

Baloo chuckled.

“Yeah, I bet. How is Beckers, y’seen her lately?”

“Nah,” said Kit, “you know her, she’s crazy busy. Constantly complaining but loves every second of it. I barely ever see her.”

Baloo reached into a cooler by the base of the sign and pulled out two bottles of soda pop. He knocked off the lids against the wooden upright and offered a bottle to Kit.

“A shame,” he said. “We should all get together soon, for old times sake.”

“Most definitely, I’d like that.”

“How about Molly, she still enrolled in that business program?”

“Yeah,” Kit said, taking a swig of soda to hide a sudden feeling of discomfort. “She does it to make her mom happy, but I don’t think she really knows what she wants to do yet.”

“Never did strike me as the uptight management type,” Baloo agreed.

“She’ll be great at whatever she does do, though,” Kit said wistfully.

Baloo looked at Kit for a moment, a speculative expression on his normally uncomplicated face. He shook his head and brushed off his suspicions.

“So, what can I do ya for, Little Britches? Or did you just come to say hi to your ol’ Papa Bear?” There was an unmistakable hopeful tone in the question, as though he had wanted Kit really to have just come by to say hello. Kit hated to disappoint him, and so put off the question he had really wanted to ask.

“I’m curious to see how the Sea Duck’s coming,” Kit said, which was not untrue.

“Can’t wait to see her up and running again,” said Baloo, guiding Kit around the dock to where the old seaplane was anchored. “Gave Wildcat the week off to visit Clementine in Boomstone for the week though, so repairs are on hold for the moment.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” said Kit, genuinely disappointed both for Baloo and for the missed chance to introduce Cara to Wildcat.

“Sure is,” agreed Baloo, “the backup plane I rented isn’t half the machine my ol’ girl is, but it was either that or give up deliveries until she’s fixed. Can’t afford to do that.”

Kit watched Baloo as the old pilot looked at his only love, the Sea Duck, the plane he’d worked so hard for so long to call his own.

“What’s left to do?” asked Kit, keeping his tone upbeat and encouraging.

“Her left engine’s still rattling,” Baloo said, “think we must’ve dropped a nut in there while tightening up the wing panels, so it needs to be disassembled, cleared out, and put back together, hopefully that fixes it. A crack in the windshield, the whole thing should probably be replaced. Also wouldn’t mind replacing some switches on the main flight board that are loose, but that’s not top priority. We’re almost there, Kit.”

Kit smiled at how Baloo said “we,” as though for a moment they were back as they were, pilot and navigator, an inseparable team.

“Can I help?” Kit offered. “Wildcat might not be here, but I can be a second set of hands. We can start on the engine.”

“Second set of hands,” Baloo scoffed. “Now don’t be modest, Kit.”

Kit just shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t go adding any newfangled upgrades while I’m not looking,” Baloo said, gesturing for Kit to follow him towards the old main building. “I don’t know what Khan’s got you working on but I don’t want any part of it near my Sea Duck.” Already it was clear his mood was improving.

“Now where did Wildcat leave that toolbox...”

Far above Higher for Hire, nestled up in the cliffs of Cape Suzette, shifts of defensive sentries manned their guns and kept their sights trained for any sign of unauthorized movement from sea or sky. And above them, hidden by a layer of clouds, hovered the Iron Vulture.

Don Karnage was fuming.

For months now he had been unable to enact any of his plans to wreak havoc upon the citizens of Cape Suzette. The strength of the city’s security force had been increased, the cannons with farther range, the guards with broader and more accurate sight. He paced back and forth across the floor of his cabin, adding a theatrical flourish of his coat with every turn, waiting for Gibber to report back from reconnaissance. Karnage was not one to normally make a point of gathering intel, but he had to know the cause of this sudden frustration. Someone at Louie’s would know. Wild fantasies ran through his mind of some new, impossibly valuable item imported to the city under the promise of added protection, or perhaps a gathering of dignitaries with massive wallets demanding equally massive insurance. The possibilities were endless, and all of them made his mouth water. All he had to do was figure out a way in.

Bored of pacing, Karnage sat in his ornate captain’s chair and propped his heavy boots on his desk with a thunk. He leaned back, picking at his claws with a dagger, trying to decide what his favorite possibility might be. Giant diamonds, perhaps, or trunks of Thembrian gold. Or both? Why not both? It had been so long since he’d pulled off a solid act of piracy. This could be his greatest yet. If only he could get past those damned guns!

A sudden knock at the door caused Karnage to leap to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair in the process.

“Yes, yes! Come in!”

The gruff, thick jawed dog came shuffling in, pulling his cap off as he entered the room.

“Tell me tell me tell me, what have you found, what wondrous treasure awaits us?”

Gibber stood a little taller to whisper into his captain’s ear.

“WHAT!” Karnage exploded, leaping back as though physically harmed by the news. “Nothing? No gems, no gold, no beautiful jewelry with which to decorate my already highly decorated personage?”

Gibber gripped his cap and shook his head.

“Then what is the cause of this confounding crisis of impervious impudence?”

Karnage leaned over to give Gibber easier access.

“UPGRADES?”

Once again Don Karnage staggered back in disbelief.

“Since _when_ has Cape Suzette upgraded _anything_?”

Gibber gestured for his captain to listen once again. As whispers traveled from mouth to ear, Karnage’s eyes grew wide.

“Ahh, I know this name! That obnoxious woman who worked with that equally obnoxious pilot. She is responsible?”

A nod from Gibber.

“Well then, we must see what can be done about this... Rebecca Cunningham.”


	4. You Can Win It

The left engine of the Sea Duck lay in pieces on the tarp which had been spread out and secured across Higher for Hire's dock, preventing any small pieces from being lost through the slatted wood. Sore, exhausted, covered in grease, Baloo and Kit lay among them, confused and defeated. They'd gone over the machinery with a fine-toothed comb, finding no nut, no stray bearing, no loose connections, not even a broken bit of pencil lead to cause the mystery rattle.

“We need Wildcat,” Baloo groaned, staring up at the sky. The bright blue of day was beginning to fade to purples and reds.

“We need food,” said Kit, patting his growling belly. He’d stayed on the project far longer than he’d intended; it felt good to get dirty and work with his hands again.

“Hey, Kit,” said Baloo, sitting up with the beginnings of a smile, “you know what’ll cheer us up? How’s about you and I take the rental to Louie’s. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

Kit rubbed his back against a nail that bumped up under the tarp, scratching a spot between his shoulders. He didn’t feel like getting up quite yet.

“Shouldn’t we put this all back together first?” He waved his arms vaguely from his position on the ground, as though making half a snowman among the wreckage of the day.

“Nahhh,” Baloo said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Rain’s not supposed to arrive for a couple days yet, it’ll be fine.”

With a heave, Kit rolled upright, then reached down to help Baloo to his feet. He hadn’t thought about Cara the whole time they were working, he realized. Well, that’s okay, he thought. I’ll tell him another time.

“Okay then,” Kit said. “To Louie’s!”

“So,” said Molly, “what are we thinking for food?”

“Hmm…” Cara said, tapping her pencil against her teeth. The two were seated outside in the CSU quad, having just gotten out of their last class for the day. “You know what I’ve been craving lately? Indian. I’d kill a man for some good saag dal.”

Molly raised an eyebrow.

“Cara, there are no Indian restaurants in Cape Suzette.”

“Oh. Right. Korean?”

“Cara.”

“Pizza it is, then,” sighed Cara. “Someday I’ll take you around Duckburg, teach you what real food can be.”

Molly smiled and turned her face to catch the waning daylight.

“I’d like that. I could use a little spice in my life.”

Cara followed Molly’s gaze across the lawn, where she spotted a pair of sleek feline sisters talking animatedly to a mutual friend, who was holding a stack of papers.

“We still talking about food, Mol?”

“Sure, sure.”

The cat girls waved as their third, a tan canine, began walking away. The flyers in their hands fluttered.

“I would love to visit Duckburg though,” said Molly. “After I’m done here, maybe.”

“What do you think you’ll do? After you graduate, I mean.”

“No idea,” admitted Molly. I’m doing this because I have to do something, and it’s easy to follow in Mom’s footsteps, but I think I’d rather at least see what else is out there, you know? I never really looked at my options before agreeing to the business track. It’s safe, so I’m okay following through on it, but I’m open to exploring, you know?”

“Definitely,” Cara said.

“Hey guys!” a voice caught their attention. It was the tan dog from earlier.

“Heya, Penny!” Cara called.

“Who were those girls you were talking to?” Molly said, trying to sound innocent.

Penny rolled her eyes.

“Not very subtle, are you. Sorry Molly, they’re not your type.”

Molly pouted.

“Y’all coming to the end of semester party?” Penny asked.

Molly and Cara both perked up at this.

“Party?” Molly grinned.

“Nothing like that,” Penny said, smirking at the sudden enthusiasm. “We’re family friendly here. Picnic and bonfire to celebrate the end of exams, everybody’s welcome.”

“That sounds really nice!” Cara said, taking a flyer.

“You know what,” Molly said, “it really does.” She took a flyer as well, eyes darting over the details.

“Great, I’ll see you guys there!” Penny said, and began to walk on to the next cluster of students.

“Say,” Molly turned to Cara, “do you think I could convince my mom to come? She’s been so busy, I’d love to have a sort of family reunion, you know? Get Baloo and Kit to come, too.”

Molly smiled at her friend, who was looking back at the paper with a faraway look in her eyes.

“That’s a lovely idea, Mol.”

“Oh!” said Molly, not meaning to exclude Cara. “I mean, you’re coming too, obviously. You should hang with us! Or would that be weird? That wouldn’t be weird, would it? How are Kit things?”

Cara made a little noise and sighed.

“I really like him, Mol.”

Molly couldn’t help herself and clapped with glee.

“But…” Cara went on, “is he normally so distant?”

“What do you mean?”

“We haven’t met up since that first day at the cafe, and when we talked on the phone… Don’t get me wrong, it’s great, but sometimes it seems like he’s thinking of something else, and I have to get his attention again.”

Molly frowned.

“That doesn’t sound like the Kit I know,” she admitted, “but he has been really down lately. I’m sorry, I should have warned you, he’s been struggling a little since starting his new job. But I promise, once he comes out of his shell he’s an incredible person.”

“I can see that,” said Cara. “I can see it in him.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Molly, "and if he keeps acting like an idiot, let me know and I'll smack him around for you."

Cara smiled at her friend.

"Alright," Molly said, "let’s wrap up this failure of a Bechdel test. Please come to the bonfire and meet us there?"

Cara sighed and looked down, threading her fingers together.

“I… I wish my family would come, if I invited them.”

“Oh, shit Cara I’m sorry,” Molly said. “You don’t have to-“

“No, no it would be good,” Cara said. “Look, I really don’t do family stuff, but I want to go. Okay? Tell you what, I'll even bring marshmallows."

Dumptruck, Gibber, and Mad Dog sat huddled together over their drinks. The rounded booth barely contained the larger two pirates’ broad shoulders, Gibber squished self consciously in between. They’d been coming to Louie’s nearly daily since Gibber’s first discovery but had not discovered anything new, though it was unclear whether this was because the usual crowd was not the sort to socialize with the likes of Rebecca, or because those that would avoided their questionable appearance and gruff attitudes.

“Come on, let’s go,” whined Mad Dog. “This is stupid, we’re wasting time.”

“Yah,” agreed Dumptruck. “What does the Cap’n expect from this?”

Mad Dog nodded sagely in agreement. 

“I say we leave,” he said.

“Yah. After this round.”

Dumptruck unsteadily raised his tankard, against which Mad Dog clinked his own.

Gibber, though, who had been looking around the room, left his drink where it was on the table. He had caught an interesting sight: two familiar faces entering the lounge. He jabbed the pirates to either side of him hard in the ribs.

“Hey!” said Mad Dog as Dumptruck grunted. “What gives?”

Gibber silently nodded towards the doorway, where Baloo and Kit were waving hellos to Louie, who had leapt over the bar to greet them.

“Oh, ah, don’t we know them?” Dumptruck asked.

“Yes, we do,” said Mad Dog.

“Baloo!” Louie called, clapping his friend on the back. “Where’ve ya been man? We’ve been missing your sweet samba routine around here.”

“Been working, Louie,” said Baloo, “can’t believe I ever used to run that place alone.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t so busy back when it was Baloo’s Air Service!” Louie laughed. “Rebecca really did a number on that place, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, I’ll say. On me, too.”

Louie shook his head and laughed again.

“Is that Kit hiding behind your bulky behind? Get over here man, let me look at ya.”

“Hey Louie,” said Kit, who’d been enjoying watching the reunion.

“Boy, you clean up real nice,” said Louie, grabbing Kit and giving him an acrobatic twirl. “Gotta replace that dirty old hat though,” Louie said, twisting the red and blue cap to face forward on Kit’s head, “it doesn’t match the rest of your respectable ensemble.”

“No way,” Kit said, turning it back around. “A dear friend of mine gave me this. I’ll keep it forever.”

Baloo beamed.

“Well let me find y’all a table and we can get this party started.”

Louie guided them over to the booth next to where the trio of pirates were slouching, struggling to look inconspicuous.

“Say, uh, Louie,” Baloo said, “you rented out your extra room yet?”

“Not yet my man,” said Louie, “as they say, Louie’s is a nice place to visit but you’ve gotta be a party animal to live here. But it’s only a matter of time, Baloo! If you want it, better get a move on. I can’t keep it warm for you forever.”

“Yeah, yeah. I just need to find the right person to take over Higher For Hire, I can’t leave it with just anyone.” Baloo glanced over at Kit, who couldn’t meet his eyes. “That place is more than a business, Louie. It’s a home.”

“I know, I know,” Louie said, catching the discomfort between the two on this topic, “but let’s be real, you’re never gonna find someone who loves that place as much as you do. I know you Baloo, It’s like the Sea Duck, you’ll never give it up.”

“I dunno Louie,” Kit jumped in, eager to change the subject, “you should see what we flew in here on!”

“Wait wait, are you telling me Baloo put his grubby paws on a new woman?” Louie feigned shock, grabbing the table for support and throwing the back of a hand to his forehead. “The absolute scandal!”

It was at that moment that one of Louie’s simian servers came by and tapped him in the shoulder.

“Hey, boss,” he said, “trouble at table four.”

The group collectively looked over to see two Thembrian pilots standing on their chairs to be eye to eye with the giant polar bear they were insulting.

“Ah, seriously? Luke should know better than to mess with those boys.” Louie turned back to Baloo and Kit. “Sorry friends, that’s my cue to skedaddle. I’ll check back in with you cats later.”

“Oh, and uh, we’ll take two of whatever the special is,” Baloo said as Louie started towards the offending table.

“You got it, coz. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got some ruffians to escort outside.”

Settled in at their table, and having exhausted rehashing what they found (or didn't find) in the engine, Baloo became suddenly thoughtful. He scratched the back of his neck and looked slightly away from Kit as he asked,

“So uh, has Molly mentioned at all how Rebecca’s holding up on her own?”

“Not too much, but you know Ms Cunningham,” Kit said, “she’s probably thriving with all the responsibility. I get the impression Molly doesn’t want to be a distraction.”

“Yeah, I suppose that is true. She still in that ridiculous penthouse with the waterfall?”

There was a rustling at the table next to theirs at this inquiry, but Baloo and Kit did not notice.

“She is indeed.”

Baloo laughed.

“Beckers always did go over the top when she could.”

“You know,” Kit said, “you could always just call her.”

“I call her enough about where she hid things around the office. You know I spent two days looking for a pen? A PEN, Kit.”

Kit laughed.

“Baloo, I’m sure she’d be happy to hear from you just to chat.”

“You think so?”

“I know so!”

Baloo crossed his arms on the table, looking pensive.

“You’re friends,” Kit insisted, “aren’t you?”

“Of course we are,” Baloo said defensively. “But back when we worked together, it was easy. We saw each other every day. If I asked her out of the blue to grab coffee and catch up… would that be weird?”

“Two friends getting coffee?” Kit said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Well sure, when you say it it sounds so normal.”

“It is normal!”

Baloo tapped his claws against the table, thinking.

“Baloo,” Kit said, unable to hold back the question, “did you two ever… you know?”

“What? No!” Baloo answered too quickly. “No, of course not. Beckers, she…” he paused. It felt weird to say these kinds of things to Kit, but the boy had matured enough to be treated as a peer. He wasn’t a child anymore. “She deserves better than me, Kit.”

“What!” Kit said, astonished by this response. “Baloo, if you… if you have feelings for her,” he paused as Baloo groaned in embarrassment and held his face in his hands, “then you should tell her! She’s been single this whole time, if she was going to find someone ‘better’ than you, she would have already.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Baloo said through his hands. “But we’ve known each other for so long, Kit, she’s one of my best friends. I… I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t lose that, you know?”

Kit nodded in understanding. He knew better than Baloo could imagine, but didn’t say anything.

Baloo cleared his throat.

“She, uh, she really stayed single this whole time?”

“According to Molly there have been a few dates, but nothing serious,” Kit confirmed.

“Man, that lady’s got high standards.”

“Lucky for you, huh?”

Baloo pretended like he hadn’t heard this comment.

“Say, did I ever tell you about the time Beckers fell for a ghost in this very establishment?”

“Only about a hundred times!”

Back behind his counter, an eavesdropping Louie chuckled at the memory. _Poor, hopeless Baloo_. He shook his head and turned back to his customers, just as a grey-brown canine appeared at the bar.

“Why, hello Miss Sedona,” Louie said. “What can I get for you this fine evening?” He knew she was probably too young to be drinking, but she seemed to know her limit and never went over it.

“Nothing too strong tonight, thanks.” Sedona nodded to the motley trio in the booth next to Kit and Baloo’s. “Hey Louie, could you tell me who those guys are?”

“Why sure, though I don’t know why you’d want anything to do with them,” Louie said. “Those three are part of Don Karnage’s crew. I let ‘em stay because they haven’t been causing any trouble, but you just let me know if they look at you funny and they’re gone, honey.”

“Thanks, Louie.”

Sedona took the mug Louie left in front of her and turned on her stool to watch the pirates, sipping thoughtfully, eyes narrowing.


	5. In a Minute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays! I was hoping to get to the spicy stuff before xmas but life in 2020 (and my terrible habit of thinking up new scenes and plot twists) is preventing that from happening. We’ll get there, I promise!

Baloo sat heavily in the chair behind Higher for Hire’s front desk, its wheels squeaking and shifting as he looked around the office. He’d run the business for years before those fateful few days when he’d met Rebecca, Molly, and Kit, and had never felt lonely, but now the place was somehow different. It felt empty without them. Baloo spun his chair around to face the large cork board on the wall and took down a photo of the four of them. It had been Kit’s high school graduation. Frozen in time, Kit reached to catch his falling mortarboard as Molly jumped onto his back, while Baloo and Rebecca beamed in the background like proud parents. He sighed heavily.

Before he could stop himself, Baloo reached for the decades-old rotary phone on the desk and began dialing. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he needed to hear Rebecca’s voice, to hear her reassurance that he was making her proud. He dialed quickly, so he couldn’t change his mind, but felt more and more uncertain with each ring. Finally -

“Hello!”

“Hey Beckers, I-“

“You’ve reached the answering machine of Rebecca Cunningham, sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number I will return-“

Baloo dropped the receiver back into its cradle, feeling ashamed. Embarrassed, even. Heaving a big sigh, he pulled himself out of the chair and began making his way upstairs.

  


Kit looked at the napkin he'd kept in his wallet, on which was scrawled Cara's number. Back at his apartment, away from the hustle and bustle of Louie's, he somehow felt less confident. He flipped the wrinkled napkin over and over in his fingers, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. But then he forced himself to think about how he'd felt back at the Brew, how surprisingly effortless being happy had been.

With a deep breath, he reached for the phone and dialed.

  


Cara’s roommate Stacey answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Bobby! I- oh.” She paused and pouted. “Cara, it’s for you.” She carelessly put her hand over the mouthpiece and said, loudly enough for Kit to hear on the other end, “Who is he? He sounds really hot!”

Cara grabbed the phone from her and managed one quick threat under her breath before saying a cautious, “Hello?”

“Hi, Cara!” came Kit’s voice on the other end.

“Kit! Hey!”

“Oooooooh, who’s Kit?” Stacey asked, dancing around Cara and making kissy noises.

“Hey Kit, hang on a sec.” Cara faced Stacey, somewhere between fuming and trying not to laugh. “How old are you?? Come on!”

On his end of the line, Kit stifled laughter of his own. He’d never asked Cara who she was housed with.

“A little privacy?” Cara pleaded. “Please?”

“Fine,” Stacey said, flouncing out of the room, “but I want ALL the details!”

The door slammed shut behind her.

“Sorry about that,” Cara said, sitting on her bed. “What’s up?”

“I have some good news, and some bad news,” Kit said.

“Bad news first.”

“Wildcat’s gone until the end of the week.”

“That could be worse,” said Cara. “What’s the good news?”

“The Duck is in such bad shape, I think Baloo will welcome any help he can get on it.”

“It’s sad that that’s good news,” Cara laughed, “but I’ll take it.

“He’s very protective of his baby!” Kit said. “You should see him with it.”

“I’d love to know the story of how he got that plane,” Cara said.

“You’ll have to ask him to tell you that one himself,” Kit said. “He gets all misty eyed and emotional, it’s really special.”

“Aw!”

“Don’t tell him I told you that.”

“Obviously not.”

“Thanks.”

Cara twisted the sheets in her free hand as she decided how to ask something she’d been wondering about.

“Hey, Kit,” she began, “I’m sorry if this is weird, but, Baloo… Molly told me he’s like your dad, that he basically raised you.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“What… what was that like?”

There was silence on the other end of the line as Kit considered how to answer this. Cara deserved better than his canned answer of blind gratitude.

“It was cool, I guess.” he said finally, disappointed at how lame it sounded. “I mean, I have nothing to compare it to, you know? So it was okay. I never missed having a normal family because I didn’t feel like I’d lost anything by not having it, because I never had it. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Cara said. She didn’t dare ask the circumstances of why he never had it. Not yet, anyway.

“I mean sure it was awkward at times, Baloo isn’t exactly the ‘parent teacher conference’ type, you know? But he treated me well. Ms Cunningham, too. She cared more than she needed to. She didn’t need to at all, I was barely even her employee, let alone her child. She could’ve just ignored me, they both could have, but they really were the only family I needed.”

“That’s good,” Cara said. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” said Kit.

Cara was quiet, waiting for Kit to ask her why she’d wanted to know. But he didn’t. He’d stopped caring about people asking of his circumstances long ago. He’d had to, as it was such a common occurrence. He couldn’t let it bother him, or he’d never have the energy for anything else.

“So,” he said instead, eager to break the silence, “what have you been up to?”

Cara scoffed.

“Classes. I have no life, remember? You’re the interesting one.”

“What! You’re plenty interesting!”

“Oh yeah? You’ll have to tell me all about myself later. For now though, I want to hear what you did after spending the day helping a celebrated pilot with his illustrious seaplane.” 

Kit cleared his throat self-consciously, his brain short circuiting for a moment at the thought of telling Cara all the things that interested him about her. 

“Have, uh, have you ever been to Louie’s?” 

“No,” Cara said, “I thought that place was only for pilots.”

“Well, it is easier to get in if you know one.”

“Hmm, lucky for me I just met a handsome pilot who seems willing and able.”

Kit laughed.

“How can I resist? I’ll definitely take you, whenever you want.”

“Excellent! Stacey will be so jealous.”

“Stacey is your roommate?” Kit asked.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Cara said. “All the way from Spoonerville, can you believe it?”

“Huh! I don’t think I know anyone from Spoonerville.” 

“You’ll have to meet her!” said Cara. “Actually - have you talked to Molly? The school is hosting a friends and family end of semester party thing, you should come! I think she’s going to try to convince her mom to come, too.” 

“Ms Cunningham? At a party?” Kit laughed at the thought. “Okay, now I have to go.” 

“Sweet!” 

“What about you, your family coming?” 

Cara cringed, thankful that Kit couldn’t see her expression through the phone. 

“No, I don’t think so. They prefer the city life, you know?” 

“Yeah, but you’re their daughter!” 

“Yeah…” 

Kit, alone in his apartment, bit his lip and grimaced. Had he unknowingly stumbled onto a sore subject? 

“Sorry, forget I asked.” 

“Nah, it’s okay. I bugged you about personal crap, you get to, too.” 

“Well how about we leave that for next time?” 

Cara smiled, liking the implication of a guaranteed “next time.” 

“Sounds good.” 

It was long past midnight and the crew at Louie’s were stacking chairs, cleaning tables, and chasing out the last few customers. Sedona had fallen asleep at the bar, head resting on her arm, face still pointed in the direction of the pirates’ booth. They had long since left. 

Louie, who was wiping down the counter, gently nudged her awake. 

“Hey, coz.” 

Sedona looked apologetically up at Louie. 

“Sorry, must’ve dozed off…” She turned back to the empty lounge and silently cursed herself. She’d meant to follow the pirates out. 

“You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,” Louie told her with a small smile. 

“Don’t have to go home, huh?” Sedona returned the smile grimly. “That’s good.” 

Louie understood what she meant, having watched her cautious attempts to swipe food and items from his other patrons. He often caught and scolded her for these indiscretions, but occasionally let her have a win when the target was one of his more troublesome guests. He smiled and came around to help her off her stool. 

“You need a ride anywhere? I think there are still a few flyboys around you can hitch with, just run ‘em by me first.” 

“Nah,” Sedona said, “I got it covered. Thanks, Louie.” 

“You got it, kid. Stay safe out there.” 

While Louie’s place dominated the southeastern coast, the remainder of the island on which it was located was largely uninhabited. The lush forest, clear waterfalls, and migratory nature of its guests made it a haven for anyone looking for a safe place to hide on their way on to better things - transients, escapees, refugees, and runaways. Runaways like Sedona. 

She approached the crossed palm trees where she’d set up camp, relieved to see her few belongings had apparently remained untouched. It seemed to be an unspoken, mutual agreement of respect between everyone on the island. Not that she’d have much to steal - a hammock made from an old parachute, a pan to boil water and heat food, and a small knapsack in which she kept a box of momentos. 

Sedona grabbed her bag and flung herself into the hammock. She reached in for the box, wanting to look through her things before going to sleep, only to find it wasn’t there. 

“No,” she said, sitting up in disbelief. 

She turned the bag inside out. 

“No, no, no, no n-mmmph!” 

A giant, vice-like hand clamped over her mouth, while an arm wrapped around her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. While she struggled, two figures, one lanky, one short, strode out from the underbrush where they’d been hiding. It was the taller one that spoke first. 

“Well well,” said Mad Dog, “what have we here?” 

From behind Sedona, a low, confused voice replied, “Gee ah, I dunno, you just told me to grab her.” 

In Dumptruck’s distraction, Sedona twisted violently, falling out of the hammock, but the huge pirate did not loosen his grip on her. She dangled where he held her against his massive chest. 

Gibber muttered in disgust under his breath. He held up the box and pulled out a photo, dropping the rest onto the ground. Behind Dumptruck’s hand, Sedona let out a string of inaudible curses. 

“Such language for a lady!” said Mad Dog, guessing her intent. He took the photo from Gibber and walked up to her. He held it up and said, “Now, my friend Dumptruck here is going to carry you someplace nice and quiet where Louie and his friends can’t hear us, and we’re going to have a chat about why you’ve got a picture of our Captain.” 


	6. If You Spin It

Khan’s office was designed to be intimidating, though the imposing tiger’s mere presence could have made an outhouse feel like a courtroom to a convict. Kit took off his cap and tried to stand a little straighter as he made his way down the too long walk to his employer’s executive desk. First thing that morning he had been summoned, and he had no idea what to expect. He frantically questioned if he may have leaked some company secret to Baloo, though how Khan would have known was beyond him. Not that the “how” was really a concern right now. 

Shere Khan sat in his high backed chair, reading glasses perched on his nose, thumbing through a file of papers. Kit cleared his throat as he approached, as though not wanting to surprise a predator in its own lair. If Khan was even capable of being surprised. 

“Ah, Mr Cloudkicker,” Khan said, laying the papers down. He gently, precisely removed his glasses with the very tips of his claws. Kit distractedly wondered whether the lenses had ever been smudged. “So good of you to come so promptly.” 

“Of course, sir.” 

“I have some good news for you, Mr Cloudkicker.” Kit, standing frozen at attention, couldn’t force himself to relax even upon hearing this. 

“Our friend Buzz here has been going over your latest submission and believes the A63 has potential.” It was only then that Kit noticed Buzz, the company’s primary engineer and inventor, standing in the shadow of Khan’s chair. He peered out timidly, but spoke in an excited voice. 

“That’s right!” Buzz said, his head bobbing up and down. “We’re going to make it!” 

“Y… you’re going to make it?” exclaimed Kit, hardly believing his ears. 

“To be precise,” Khan said, “we are making a prototype model as a proof of concept. Should it survive preliminary internal testing, you may be called upon to finesse the details.” 

“You’re going to make it,” Kit breathed, still processing this fact. 

Khan’s eyebrow may have raised a fraction of an inch. 

“Yes, Mr Cloudkicker.” 

“It may be several months until we reach the test flight stage-” Buzz began. 

" _If_ we reach the test flight stage,” corrected Khan calmly. 

"Right, sorry Mr Khan, if we reach the test flight stage, but when we do you’re welcome to join our test pilots to see how it flies.” 

Kit wavered on his feet, elated, in disbelief at what he was hearing. 

"I believe you still have connections with the owner of a rather pedestrian little dock, is that correct?” Khan said. It took a second for Kit to realize he meant Higher for Hire. “You may direct our pilot to fly it there to confirm it performs under… less than ideal conditions.” 

Kit was so beside himself he didn’t even hear the slight to his old home. He didn’t have much of a poker face on the best of days, and now he was sure that he was beaming so brightly they could see the wattage through Khan’s window from across town. It took him a second to realize Khan was waiting for him to say something. 

“Oh! Yes! Yes, sir,” Kit stammered, “absolutely, sir.” He wasn’t even sure what he was agreeing to at this point, but it hardly mattered. “Thank you, Mr Khan, sir!” 

“You’re very welcome, I’m sure,” Khan said, gracefully putting his glasses back on. “We will contact you if there is anything further. You may go.” 

The dismissal was hardly enough to break Kit from the spell he was under. It took Buzz nudging him as he, too, moved to leave their employer’s presence, to get him moving back towards the door. 

“Now, Mr Cloudkicker,” Buzz was saying, “there are some things I need to go over with you…” 

The door slamming behind them brought Kit back to his senses. 

“Buzz. Buzz,” he said, grabbing the diminutive avian by the shoulders, “did that really just happen?” 

“I can only assume so, Mr Cloudkicker, as you and I were both there to witness it.” 

“For the love of god Buzz, call me Kit.” 

“Yes, Mr Clou- Kit. Now if you could just-” Buzz wriggled in Kit’s grip. Kit, getting the hint, let go. 

“Yes, right. Sorry. Oh, I’ve gotta tell Baloo, he’s gonna freak out.” 

“No!” Buzz said, suddenly, his oddly magnified eyes darting to look at Kit as he stepped in front of him. “You can’t, can’t tell anyone yet, this is prototype, NDA, secret stuff, no telling anyone.” 

“Aw Buzz, come on, I tell Baloo everything!” 

“Everything except this, Kit. You can tell him once we confirm test flights and need to use his facility, but you work for Khan now. Not Baloo. Not even Ms Cunningham. You need to remember that.” 

Kit’s heart sunk. What had been such a victory a moment before now felt like a burden. How could he celebrate his achievements if he couldn’t share them? 

  


Sedona sat, arms and legs bound, just inside the ring of firelight as Mad Dog, Dumptruck, and Gibber checked that nothing of their own belongings had gone missing in their absence. The trio had such a hard time finding the way back to their own campsite that Sedona, shaken as she was, felt compelled to ask, 

“How did you find me?” 

“What?” Mad Dog said, not used to his prisoners asking questions. 

“I can understand you spotting me at Louie’s, but I left after you. How’d you know where I was staying?” 

“Well, uh,” Mad Dog stammered, “That’s right, we definitely knew you were at Louie’s, didn’t we Dumptruck?” Dumptruck nodded obediently in agreement, but looked highly confused as he did so. “Totally not just random coincidence. And Gibber here is an excellent tracker. Nose like a bloodhound.” Gibber rolled his eyes and grumbled something about dumb luck. “Led us right to you.” 

“But ah, Mad Dog, didn’t we get lost looking for our camp?” Dumptruck asked innocently. “I thought you said you had no idea whose-” 

“Okay, time for interrogation!” Mad Dog interrupted, laughing nervously. “You’re not the one asking questions right now, missy.” 

“So let me get this straight,” Sedona said, feigning a boldness she wished she felt. “You left Louie’s unaware of my existence, got lost, stumbled upon an unknown person’s campsite, and went rummaging through their things for what, valuables?” 

“Well, I mean we are pirates,” said Mad Dog, only acknowledging the last notation. “Always on the lookout for something shiny that might be worth stealing.” 

“Did you really think someone living in a hammock would have something shiny?” 

“You never know,” said Mad Dog defensively. He himself had lived in a hammock, and didn't like the insinuation. “Plus, it seems we may have found something more interesting. Gibber!” 

Gibber shuffled up and ceremoniously raised the polaroid. It was old, faded, bent at the edges, but clearly showed a canine couple: a tall, brown eyed, mid-laugh coyote, and the male she was looking at. His clothes were not quite so flamboyant and his fur not so grizzled, but he held himself with the same absurd confidence that shone through his raised eyebrows toothy grin - it could only be a much younger Don Karnage. He looked happy, almost goofy, though his crew would never dare use that word to describe him to his face. 

“So you do know him!” Sedona said, brightening. 

“Of course we do, that’s our Captain,” said Dumptruck. “But who is th-” 

“Shh!” Mad Dog hissed at Dumptruck. “Don’t let her know what we don’t know.” 

“But, ah, do we know what we don’t know?” Dumptruck asked, scratching his head. 

Mad Dog shook his head and turned back to Sedona. 

“Why do you have this photo?” 

“It’s mine.” 

“Yes, but how did it come to be yours?” 

“I took it.” 

Dumptruck laughed heartily. “Maybe she is a pirate, too!” 

“Not yet,” Sedona said, “but I want to be.” 

“Really!” Mad Dog said, intrigued. 

“Really. I know the man in that photo is the fearsome air pirate Captain Don Karnage, pillager of possessions, raider of rarities, baron of the blue, foe of the-” 

“Wait, wait,” Mad Dog said in utter disbelief. Karnage had often used those phrases to describe himself, sure, but he’d never heard some random person speak of the Captain in such reverent, not to mention alliterate, terms. 

“Is… that not right?” Sedona asked, looking suddenly unsure. 

“No, I mean, yes,” Mad Dog stuttered, “but where did you hear all that? Do you know him?” 

Sedona scowled and looked at the ground. 

“No, but I mean to,” she said, suddenly stubborn. It was remarkable how quickly her moods could switch in the moment. “And it’s none of your business where I heard it. It’s correct, isn- er, I mean, ain’t it? That’s what’s important.” 

Mad Dog crossed his arms and looked at Gibber, who was examining the photo, and Dumptruck, who was examining a bug that had landed on a nearby plant. He sighed and turned back to Sedona. Why did he always have to do all the work? 

“Alright girly, what is it exactly that you want with the Cap’n?” 

“My name is Sedona,” she said, annoyed by the epithet, “and I want to join his crew.” 

The three pirates stopped to look at each other before bursting into laughter. 

“But you’re so scrawny!” Dumptruck said in a tone of genuine concern. 

Gibber mumbled something about Mad Dog being scrawny, but nobody heard him. 

“I’m not joking!” Sedona snapped. She sounded more upset than angry, a quaver threatening to make itself known in her voice. “Look, this is stupid.” Before the pirates could register what she was doing, she bunched herself up, slipped her tied wrists past her feet to bring her arms in front, yanked the rope loose with her teeth, and untied her ankles. It was done in a matter of seconds. 

“In fact, I think I might be more qualified than you guys.” 

“Wow!” Dumptruck said, beginning to applaud. Mad Dog stopped him by smacking him with the flat of his blade, which he’d drawn when Sedona started moving. He approached, pointing the weapon at her. 

“Okay then, Sedona,” he said, “we’ll take you to see the Cap’n. But no funny business.” 

“Of course not,” Sedona replied, grinning widely. “You have my word.”


	7. Spin It, Spin It

The restaurant that Molly had agreed to meet her mother at on this drizzly morning was fancier than she normally visited for brunch - if she ever did get brunch - but she didn’t mind. It was in the ground floor of some fancy hotel downtown, which Molly would never have a reason to patronize, but she reasoned it was good to get a change of scenery.

Plus, Rebecca was paying.

As the humongous white pillars came into view, Molly gave an exasperated sigh. Rebecca was already there, standing in the doorway, checking her watch and looking around. As they caught each other's eye, Molly pulled her jacket’s hood further down over her forehead and picked up the pace.

"You have got to stop being so early,” Molly said in the annoyed tone of someone who’d had this conversation a hundred times before. “You make me feel late, and I know I’m not.”

"I just wanted to get here first so you knew you were in the right spot,” Rebecca said, closing her umbrella and shaking it from the safety of the overhang.

"Mom, really?”

"Really,” Rebecca said. “Now, let’s go inside, our reservation is at 10:45 and,” here she checked her watch, “it’s 10:43, I hope they didn’t give our table away.”

"MOM.”

"What?”

Molly just shook her head and followed her mother inside. The things she put up with for a free omelette and home fries.

Moments later, seated, napkined, menu-ed, and served, Molly judged the time was right.

"So, Mom,” she began.

"I know that tone,” Rebecca said, raising an eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

"Stop being so judgey!” but Molly laughed, knowing she never really got in trouble for the escapades she usually had to admit to. “And it’s not what I did, it’s something I hope you’ll do.”

"Oh?”

"Yeah, see we’re having this ‘families welcome’ bonfire at school-“

"Honey,” Rebecca said gently, “you know I don’t have time for parties.” Despite the harshness of this statement, she was genuinely apologetic. Rebecca and Molly had been inseparable for ages, and she knew the new routine was not easy on either of them.

"You don’t even know when it is yet!”

"Okay,” said Rebecca, pulling out her overstuffed planner and beginning to rifle through the pages. “When is it?”

"The friday that ends our semester, right before holiday break. It’s for the end of exams, and to say bye to friends who are going home ‘til next year.” Molly tried to make it sound as wholesome as possible. “I think it would be nice, you know, to get everyone together again.”

"Everyone?” Rebecca said idly, running her finger along a page. “Huh, look at that. I don’t have anything scheduled for after 6 that friday.”

"Yes!” Molly said, exuberant. “Please come! And you can invite Baloo!”

"Invite Baloo?” Rebecca was well exercised in maintaining her composure and apparent disinterest, but couldn’t stop the tiny bit of color appearing on her cheeks.

"Yeah! I haven’t seen him in ages, and I know he loves a good party.”

"Hmm. I suppose I should check up on him to make sure he hasn’t burned my investment to the ground.”

"Yesssssss!” Molly laughed, grinning ear to ear. “It’ll be so good to see you two together again.”

"Togeth- oh, Molly, come on.”

"I know, I know, sure, you’re just friends. But you should still invite him.”

"Don’t go playing matchmaker with me, missy, we’ve had this conversation before.”

"I know, I know. But I still think you’d be cute together.”

"Molly!”

"Kidding! Sort of. Not really.”

Rebecca scowled at her daughter.

"Don’t worry, Mom,” said Molly, sipping her orange juice innocently. “I’ve already got one matchmaking scheme underway, that’s plenty for now.”

"Oh?”

"Do you remember Cara?” Molly asked. “I think I told you about her at the start of the year, she’s in my 101 class. Anyway, she was at the Brew when Kit came by for lunch the other day and, well…”

"...Well?”

"Would it be bragging to say I think they’re meant to be?”

"Molly, sweetie,” said Rebecca, choosing her words carefully, “this isn’t because you feel guilty, is it? About Kit?”

It took a second for Molly to register her mother’s meaning.

"What? Mom! No! Of course not.”

Rebecca didn’t say anything, just looked at her with those horrible all-knowing mom eyes.

"Not really, I mean, he never said anything to me, you know? It was always just sort of a feeling. He knows it’ll never happen, and I don’t feel bad about it. I mean, I can’t feel bad about it, can I?” Molly turned her gaze to the restaurant’s large windows. Outside, the rain was really starting to come down.

"Of course not, nor should you.”

"Good.”

The pair were silent for a moment, Rebecca with her coffee, Molly with her juice.

"You know,” Molly said with sudden inspiration, “if you come to the party you’ll see them, you’ll see how perfect they are together. Call Baloo, and tell him to make sure Kit’s coming, yeah?”

Rebecca smiled, defeated.

"Okay, okay. I’ll make sure to be there.”

Molly didn’t like to take advantage of her mother’s well-earned wealth too often, but she had to admit, having her own studio apartment while still in college was an allowance she was willing to accept. Despite her sociability, she didn’t miss having roommates. She could be as messy as she wanted, as loud as she wanted, and, on very rare occasions, as alone as she wanted.

This particular afternoon found her sprawled spread eagle on her bed, still digesting her decadent breakfast, staring at the ceiling in a contemplative mood. Her brief conversation with Cara the other day hadn’t left her mind, and something she’d touched upon had been bugging her ever since. Not even meddling in her mother’s love life had been enough of a distraction.

_What do you think you’ll do? _

Until now, Molly had been content to live a life complimentary to those around her, joining them in their adventures and joys, and commiserating in their disappointments and failures. That was one of the reasons she’d clicked so well with Kit, even from the beginning - he was always up for a game, something new, something exciting, and she was always up to not only join in but to push it to the next level. But she’d rarely been the leader, other than when they were really little and she’d insisted on playing Danger Woman. She smiled at the memory, him pulling her around in their little wagon, costumed in a towel cape and colander helmet. Was that enough?

Sometimes the endless possibilities of the world scared her. She hadn't been lying when she told Cara she wanted to travel. She hoped that someday she'd see something out there that sparked a passion and gave her direction. She’d always regretted being too young, and then later, too busy, to properly join in with Kit and Baloo on their adventures. Her mother had always said they were too dangerous, and scolded her horribly when she would stow away on the Sea Duck. Baloo had always taken care of her though, and brought her home safe. He was a great pilot. More importantly, a great person. She knew that whoever her father had been, he would never have compared to Baloo.

Something clicked in Molly’s mind then, something she’d not thought about in years. When she first met Baloo, when she was tiny and still carried her precious Lucy doll everywhere, she’d told him she’d wanted to be a pilot. When had she forgotten that?

She looked up at where Lucy was perched on top of her book case, kept all these years but neglected, yarn hair knotted and button eyes long gone. She pulled the doll down and gave her a hug.

_If I could fly _ , Molly thought, _I could see the world. I could just take off and go, whenever I wanted, just like Baloo._

She smiled. _Just like Baloo._

As it so happened, Baloo was dozing in his chair at the main office of Hire for Hire, feet propped up on his desk, cap lowered over his eyes, when the phone rang. Startled, he kicked himself awake, nearly toppling over in the process.

Blearily, he reached for the phone.

"G’morning,” he mumbled, “Hire for Hire, this is your captain Baloo speaking.”

"Morning? Baloo, it’s three in the afternoon.”

Baloo blinked a couple times, focusing on the voice.

"Molly? Molly,” he laughed, “is that you?”

"Sure is, Papa Bear. How’s life treating you?”

"Been worse, thanks for asking. What can I do y’for?”

"Well,” Molly said, not sure how best to make this request. “Have you ever considered expanding Hire for Hire’s services?”

"Molly, you sound exactly like your mother,” Baloo said, sitting up straighter, “and this concerns me.”

Molly laughed.

"She always had some harebrained scheme to boost the business or change something or other.” Baloo continued. Molly couldn’t help but notice that his voice carried both resentment and nostalgia. “I’m almost afraid to ask what you had in mind.”

"Flying lessons, Baloo. I want you to give me flying lessons.”

"Oh!” Relief washed over the pilot. “Is that all? You should’ve just come out and said it. Of course! What took you so long to ask?”

"I suppose I sort of… forgot,” Molly cringed.

"How could you forget a thing like flying?”

"I dunno. But I’m serious, Baloo, if you’re willing.”

"Nothing would bring me greater pleasure,” said Baloo earnestly. “Happy to bring you aboard. And,” he said brightly, “it’ll be good having at least one of you back at the dock on a regular basis.”

"And it’ll be good to be back!”

"Y’mean it?”

"I mean it.”

"That’s great,” Baloo said, settling back in his chair, “it’s not the same without you all, you know.”

"I know. It’s not the same not _being_ there, either.”

There was silence as they sat in the shared melancholy of the moment.

"Say uh, Molly,” Baloo said, clearing his throat, “how’s your mom doing?” He twisted the phone cord around his fingers.

"She’s great!” Molly said, a huge, devious grin spreading across her face. “She misses you, you know.”

"Really?” Baloo asked, taken aback.

"Oh yeah, totally. Always going on about how she wants to see you again, how different working at Khan Industries is.”

"That’s great! I mean, that’s awful! Of course, that’s awful.”

Molly bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"It really is,” she agreed, trying her best to infuse her voice with a sadness that would properly reflect the loneliness of a single mother slash businesswoman slash former partner. “Say, did she call you about the party?”

"What party?”

"Oh,” Molly said, suddenly deflated. Granted, it had only been a couple hours, but she’d have to hound her mother about this later. “We’re having a thing at school, to celebrate the end of the semester. Friends and family are invited. And you are both friend and family!”

Baloo laughed at this.

"Sounds like a great time,” he said, “I’ll be sure to come.”

"Great! Can’t wait!”

"I hope the weather clears, though,” Baloo said thoughtfully, scratching under his cap. “Bad luck to plan an event at the start of the rainy season.”

Molly had not thought of this.

"I think this is the first year they’re doing it, come to mention it,” she said.

"Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Baloo said quickly, sorry for having concerned Molly with something as mundane as the weather.

"Of course it will. We’ll see you there!”

"See you there. And we’ll make plans for your first lesson!”

"For sure. Great talking to you, Baloo.”

"You too, Molly. You’re a good kid.”


End file.
